Pendragon
by Sofia Lawrence
Summary: One shot. The beginning of Merlin's journey without Arthur. Set after season 5.


His friend was gone.

His true love was gone, and never once had he been allowed to accept those feelings.

It wasn't even until today that Arthur had known about the magic. How could he have kept that from him? Why was he so stupid?

His love had left him, his one true fried. His purpose.

The grief fueled his power.

He had once thought that without Arthur he couldn't have used magic. He had once thought that there was an intrinsic link between the two. However, he now knew that Arthur had tied him to reality in a way that hindered his magic.

It pulsed through him, too much, too fast.

He released it. He felt the earth and allowed it to draw from his magic. He was pouring out more magic than he ever had before. His love was gone.

The area around him was thriving on his magic. So much he had given, and yet so little compared to what he still felt blazing through his veins.

He was immortal.

He felt it in his bones. There was nothing that could stop him. No force of man or nature.

So he did the one thing he had always been destined to do. He returned to Camelot.

He was greeted like an old friend. He grieved as was appropriate. Then, he made sure the magic ban was lifted.

He had been seen in the battle fighting magic with magic. There was no doubt in all of Camelot that Merlin was a great sorcerer. _No warlock_.

His final duty in his destiny with Arthur was to bring magic back to Albion, and with a short conversation with his Queen, and once friend, it was done.

The people of Camelot were grateful to their sorcerer. He was powerful and brought peace instead of upheaval. They began to accept magic.

He was only there for a month. The void of his destiny set in and he left in the night not bothering with goodbyes or even leaving a note.

He had once been scared of the crystal cave, but he recognized its power and beauty now.

He was safe here. Free as a bird, and protected by the ancient magic that lived in the place. He could feel it. A pale blue, pure and clean, it did not burn like his molten gold.

For days he stared in the crystals willing them to show him Arthur's return. _The Once and __**Future**__ King._ The crystals denied him. Repeatedly.

After a week he stopped gazing solely at the crystals. He took all the books he had taken from Camelot. Those that had magic light and dark, and he studied. All the spells fell effortlessly from his lips.

The conjuring spells made the potions much easier to try and soon he had mastered those as well.

Time passed, but Merlin could not say how much. A year, three, maybe more. He had run out of books. They all lay at his feet their magic within easily mastered, as his power knew no bounds. There was never any need to repeat a spell. He could feel the magic in the spell just from reading the words on the page. If he thought hard enough he would not even need to speak the words.

He turned to the Druids. They had prophesied his coming perhaps they could teach him more.

His first task was to learn healing. Everything he could possibly learn.

Living with the druids time passed more linearly, but still too slow and too fast at the same time. He used his magic freely, but he was not binging as he had in the cave.

He healed many people. He received visitors from all over Albion asking for his miracle cures, and his learning from his books and the druids generally let him cure these people. He would never ask for money merely for news.

Camelot was still strong.

The Queen was alive, well, and aging gracefully.

She had given birth to an heir. That news had shocked Merlin, but he knew he didn't worry himself with it. The heir was not Arthur. It couldn't be, Merlin could feel the void as clear as the day Arthur had died, and the Future King would be the only one to possibly fill it.

The more people he saw, the more renowned he became.

The Queen was dying.

It had startled Merlin at first. He hadn't realized the time that had passed, but Gwen, his old friend was not 78 and too old for a Queen. She had long ago let he son take the throne.

She came to Merlin, not for a cure, but to say goodbye. There was no cure for old age other than immortality, and Merlin would never curse someone with that.

When the Queen died she relayed to Merlin the golden age he and Arthur had brought about. She told of the uniting of Albion under the banner of the Pendragon. She told him stories of all their friends, long since passed. She told him that she was dying, that her bones were tired and her soul was long since worn out.

Gwen however, brought Merlin two gifts. Gifts she hoped would bring him happiness. First, along with all the joy brought with her lift on the ban on magic she also gave Merlin a seal of Royalty. It would last forever. There was proof that Merlin was a member of royalty, if not by blood then by sheer force of loyalty. He always would have a place in Camelot.

It was the second gift that told Merlin he had truly never been forgotten.

The Queen had explained to Merlin that the second gift had taken time to find. It was very rare and many questioned its very existence. A servant the brought out what appeared to be a large ornate box. The Queen merely motioned for him to open it.

Merlin felt the power coming from the box and was confused. He had not felt this power since that day. He had not called upon it since then.

He would not open his eyes. He knew what it must be, but he was scared. Gwen grasped his hand.

In front of him lay what may have been the last Dragon Egg, although he wasn't as convinced as last time.

He searched his mind as he had before with Aithusa. A name should have appeared to him, but all he could think was Arthur. That was no name for a dragon. He searched with his power, but still the one name remained.

He opened his eyes, they glowed gold and spoke the word. "Arthur."

Pain ripped through him as he hadn't spoken his name since that day, and still it left him shaking. He felt the dragon awake, before it could be seen or heard, and slowly, carefully it emerged from its shell.

Aithusa's hatching had been a glorious sight indeed, both Dragon and Dragon Lord celebrating the continuation of their line, but it was nothing compared to this.

The Dragon, so timid at first, burst forth and jumped onto Merlin. His eyes shown with the molten gold Merlin could feel pulsing through his veins. His skin was a fiery red it looked like it would burn to touch it, but it was cool to the touch like any reptile.

Merlin laughed, for the first time in years, and felt a little bit of the gaping void shut. This was not his Future King, but it was part of his Arthur.

He spoke in the Dragon Tongue in a way he had not since that fateful day and claimed the Dragon he had hatched as his own.

He made the unbreakable bond between Dragon Lord and Dragon that he had failed to make with Aithusa, and he vowed to take care of his new Arthur.

He would wait 1000 years, but Arthur would still be by his side.


End file.
